


Slice of Life

by FuryTigresse



Series: After The Nightmare [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Cooking, DMC 5 spoilers, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Introspection, Post Devil May Cry 5, Post-Game(s), Spoilers, Trying to be a better dad Vergil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 05:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryTigresse/pseuds/FuryTigresse
Summary: [Spoilers for Devil May Cry 5] Vergil stayed in Fortuna with Nero and Kyrie for a little while after escaping from Hell. However, taking a break from Dante doesn't mean that everything went perfectly while he was there.(Or in which Nero gets angry at Vergil, Vergil tries not to care but he does, and Kyrie does her best to make things better for everyone.)





	Slice of Life

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit, this is a bit messy! I had many ideas and wanted to write about all of them at the same time. I literally rewrote this like five times (with five entirely different ideas) before deciding that I just wanted this to be a little slice of life about Vergil's stay with Nero and Kyrie. No big plot twist in there, but some self-discovery and some explanations for how the heck Vergil could cook something good for Nero in _Happy Birthday_ , as well as how their relationship evolved during that time. This is a prequel to that fic and a sequel to _A Time Long Since Gone_. English is still not my first language, so feel free to politely point out weird sentences!

Vergil sighed, looking out the living room's window, part of him telling him to go out but the rest - _way_ stronger - telling him that he shouldn't, that he didn't belong in this place, that he shouldn't even _be_ there. From where he was, he could see Nero in the backyard, playing with the three boys who lived there too, the orphans he and Kyrie had taken in. The young Devil Hunter had a smile on his face, and Vergil could hear his laughter as well, even from inside the house.

He still had trouble adjusting to the fact that he had a _son_. Not all that surprising, considering that he had only been back for about a week. Of course, he had time to think about it _before_ that, when he was still in Hell with Dante, between fighting with his brother, fighting against demons, and trying to just generally survive without much of anything to eat or drink, really. Still, he had been so busy trying not to smack Dante in the face at every terrible joke he made that he still wasn't really fully realizing that the young man he could see out there was his _son_. His own flesh and blood, born from a fleeting moment of happiness in his life.

Nero had helped him before, had saved the life of his human half, the frail man named V. He had done so despite not trusting him fully - with reason. It really would have been better or at least easier if Nero hadn't bothered. But the young man wasn't like that, was more similar to Anna when it came to others and helping them. Just like Anna had helped him for no reason other than just wanting to, Nero had helped what was pretty much a _stranger_ , saved his life, and helped him reach his goal even if it meant not getting his revenge, and Vergil couldn't help the feeling of _pride_ when he thought about his son's actions.

However, this very feeling made him both want to get to know his son better and want to disappear from his life forever. This whole domestic life made him feel incredibly out of place. The last time he had been in such a mundane situation was when he had stayed with Anna and, for a fragile week or two, enjoyed living the life of a normal person.

It was that feeling that kept him inside while Nero was outside, that convinced him to leave a room whenever he felt that someone was approaching, that made him use his teleportation skills when there was no way to head out without being seen. They all knew he was there, all knew he had chosen to stay in Fortuna to take a much needed break from Dante, but Vergil still didn't mingle, and he made sure to remain generally unseen.

Sure, he had spoken to Nero a bit - mostly when they would fight, and Vergil analyzed Nero's technique out loud to at least teach him _something_ \- and also to the girl, Kyrie. However, the first was mostly taunting or insulting him to get a reaction from him, and the other was such a gentle soul that Vergil almost felt like he had no right to exist in her general vicinity, with everything he had done in the past.

The clear sound of Nero's laughter from somewhere _inside_ the house pulled Vergil out of his thoughts. His hand automatically reached for the Yamato, which he carried with him everywhere. He had the intention to teleport elsewhere before anyone could come in the living room with him still in it, but Nero suddenly entered the room without giving Vergil any time to leave, the Red Queen on his back and the Blue Rose against his thigh. The kids were nowhere to be seen, probably busy playing on their own now.

"Hey, _Vergil_! Get your ass out here so I can kick it!" he hollered challengingly.  
"Nero! Watch your language!" Kyrie shouted from somewhere, her voice filled with warning.  
"Sorry!" Nero apologized. He then glanced back at Vergil with a frown. "Come on! I'll beat you for sure this time!"  
"Very well," Vergil responded, getting up. The Yamato in hand, he headed outside with Nero.

He was confident in his abilities. Except for that time on the Qliphoth, when Dante had already tired him a bit before, he had won every fight against Nero. It wasn't that his son was a bad fighter, Nero had actually _almost_ won a few times, but the Devil Hunter spent a lot of time, energy and concentration trying to taunt Vergil into doing something reckless. Since the half-demon's style was all about efficiency, it didn't work, and Vergil knew he was _fast_. Even Dante couldn't fully match his speed, so Nero not focusing entirely on the actual fight gave Vergil more opportunities than he really knew what to do with. There was something else too, something Vergil was starting to notice. Whenever they crossed blades, he could feel _emotions_ coming from Nero's strikes, and he could feel those with increased ease as they fought more.

This time again, Vergil won, although by a larger margin than usual. He had seen it coming, actually, and he had even commented on it out loud during the fight: Nero was upset, for some reason, and that made him act more recklessly, without focusing much on his defense at all.

"Foolishness, Nero. You can't hope to win by rushing in blindly," he said once the fight was over, sheathing the Yamato.  
"I can still fight!" Nero protested, growling as he struggled to get back on his feet.  
"Maybe. But you won't win today."  
"You don't know that!"  
"Emotions have no place in a fight, and yours are particularly prevalent today."  
" _Of course_ you'd think that, you emotionless bastard. All you know how to do is coldly fighting and destroying. That's _all_ you can do!"  
"Maybe."

Vergil ignored the frustrated, Devil Trigger distorted hiss behind him as he walked back towards the house. He was a little surprised that Nero hadn't tried grabbing him with his spectral arms. Not that he was unhappy about it. He had no intention to let this escalate any further. Nero's swings had been filled with rage and annoyance, and his words had only been fueled by his emotions.

Or so Vergil tried convincing himself.

As the day went on, the words kept coming back into his mind, even as he settled in for the night in the guest room. He could hear them clearly, and he sighed, closing his eyes. He pushed Nero's angry expression away, and breathed deeply. The night would help, as it usually did.

Except when it didn't. Vergil woke up the next morning with the words still fresh, still repeating themselves over and over again. They shouldn't have bothered him, but they _did_ , for some reason. The half-demon ended up staring out the guest room's window instead of reading and listening to some classical music like he usually did every morning right after waking up.

He still couldn't shake himself out of it as he walked to the kitchen at around eight, a good four hours after waking up, in order to get something to eat. At this hour, it was usually empty, with Nero gone on some job with his inventor partner, the kids playing somewhere and Kyrie being busy watching over them. However, this time, there was a young woman in there, busy cleaning the place up. Kyrie smiled at him when he entered the room after a short moment of hesitation.

"Good morning, Vergil. I hope you slept well?"  
"The night was... satisfactory."  
"That's good!"

She went back to whatever she was doing while Vergil grabbed something from the fridge. He still felt like Kyrie shouldn't be talking to him, shouldn't be so warm towards him. He knew Nero hadn't forgiven him, and he had a hunch that Kyrie herself didn't really forgive him either, so why was she so kind to him? She had no reason to be.

"Vergil?"

He blinked and looked at the young woman, who smiled at him again. "May I use your help once you're done with breakfast? The dish I'm preparing for lunch is quite long to make. I usually ask Nero, but he's out for the day and he won't be back until tonight."

Help? From _him_? He found himself nodding.

"I'll help." What _else_ could he even really say to that? He was a stranger in this house, offered shelter and sustenance because the owners were incredibly kind. They had _no reason_ to do this for him, and yet they did, even if they weren't exactly rich by any means. Helping was the least Vergil could do.

He still didn't rush, eating breakfast at the same speed as usual. After that, he got dressed into more appropriate clothes and did his hair, pushing it back into its usual style. With this done, he finally joined Kyrie in the kitchen, ready to help. He had no idea _how_ he could help, but he figured he'd be given instructions.

"Perfect timing," Kyrie told him, her hands working on some dough, when he entered the room. "Please wash your hands, and then we can start."

He did exactly that, spotting a pile of vegetables nearby on the counter as he was drying his hands. "I suppose I have to cut these."  
"Indeed. I was hoping that your proficiency with a blade would extend to the kitchen knife as well. We need cubes for this, not too big, but still big enough to maintain their shape as cubes."

Vergil took the large chef's knife Kyrie had left near the vegetables and looked at it for a minute. It was obviously nowhere near as sharp as the Yamato, but the steel was surprisingly good for such a mundane object. There was a cutting board nearby as well, but Vergil could hardly imagine himself using it. Instead, he took the closest vegetable - a carrot, freshly washed - and lightly tossed it up in the air. He watched it reach its peak height, start going down, and- there! Diced it neatly into perfect little pieces, which he then gathered in mid-air with the flat of the blade and placed in a bowl on the counter that was obviously intended for the vegetables once they'd be cut.

He felt weirdly satisfied by this although, really, he had only used Judgment Cut to slice the carrot and caught the cubes using a very similar technique to the one he usually stopped bullets with. A knife was still a blade, even with it nowhere near as good as what he was used to, and decidedly more _domestic_ than his trusty sword.

Vergil reached for the next vegetable, and only then noticed that Kyrie was looking at him. Of course, she had heard the blade singing and she had wondered why he wasn't using the board.

' _All you know how to do is coldly fighting and destroying._ '

For some reason, using such a technique to cut food when his son had told him those words just the day before left a bitter taste in his mouth. Indeed, he knew how to cut. Usually he would cut down people or demons. This time, it was just a carrot, but he couldn't help but feel like maybe he should have used a more mundane way of doing it instead of a combat skill.

"That was very impressive," Kyrie said softly, pulling him out of his thoughts. "And much faster."

Vergil nodded stiffly at the compliment, unused to those in general and thus not really knowing how to react. Instead of pondering too much about it, he took the next vegetable and readied the blade, taking a deep breath.

He was done with all the cutting barely five minutes later, so Kyrie gave him some other tasks related to the dish they were making. Before he knew it, they were sitting at the table with a cup of tea, the food in the oven and a delicious scent in the air. They had a good while before it would be ready.

"Thank you for your help, Vergil."  
"It was no trouble," he responded dryly.  
"Please don't let Nero's words bother you. He didn't mean them."

Vergil's eyes immediately snapped in Kyrie's direction. How much had she heard? How much did she know? The young woman only laughed though, smiling.

"Nero told me about your fight. And also about what he said to you. He won't apologize, but please know that he's capable of feeling remorse. He didn't mean to say such hurtful things."  
"I don't mind his words."

Blatant lie, and Kyrie didn't fall for it. She smiled at him instead. "He does wish you would spend more time with _people_ rather than books, however."

Vergil's eyebrow shot up before he could stop it. Did he understand this right? Nero's words had been fueled by... by his son just wanting attention, basically? Foolish, foolish boy.

"People are generally not as interesting as books," he scoffed.  
"Perhaps, but they can provide a lot of different insights. For example, I'd like to point out that you made the majority of the dish we'll be eating for lunch. I have proof that you know more than... what was it? Fighting and destroying. Even if you don't even _yourself_ believe that you can do more than that."

That girl had sharp observation skills. Impressive. She was right, Vergil himself didn't think he could really do much else than fighting, or at least not do it well. And if Nero felt the same way, well, that was fine. Vergil hadn't helped Kyrie just to prove his son wrong. He had more pride than that.

"Fighting is all I've ever done."  
"But you can still educate yourself in different arts. Fighting is definitely an art in itself, and you definitely know very well how to do it, but I'm quite certain you have a taste for poetry as well, for example. Nero mentioned that you're the one who gave him William Blake's book.  
"I... do enjoy poetry, when it is well written," he admitted, although he was surprised that Nero had even told Kyrie about the book.  
"So you _do_ have other interests, and other things you might want to learn about. You _can_ do more than fighting, I'm certain of it."

Other interests. Do more than fighting. Hmm. The memory was blurry, but Vergil could almost see himself - as V, not as his true, _complete_ self - dancing or playing air violin in front of demons while his familiars - his _nightmares_ \- were wreaking havoc. He just hoped that Nero had never seen him do that. Maybe a _certain part_ of him really liked music and dance, and theater as well, but he didn't need those... skills.

"Vergil, I _know_ there's more to you than just the cold demon you're trying to make us believe you are. You look at Nero from afar, you sometimes smile when he makes you proud - I _know_ he makes you proud. You don't want him to know too much about you because you don't want him to be ashamed of you. You're afraid of leaving openings that-"  
"Stop."

Vergil got up, frowning. "We've nothing more to discuss. Refrain from mentioning my involvement in today's food."

He left after that, teeth clenched. Dare he say it? The girl's observation skills were _scary_. Vergil felt uneasy, vulnerable, around people who could read into his soul so easily, especially those who were so close to his _son_ and able to tell him everything they had seen. He was fine with just being Nero's biological father, fine with being seen as the one who had ripped his own son's arm for more power. It was _fine_ if people thought he was nothing more than that.

The least they knew about him, the least they could hurt him.

***

Kyrie's words stayed on his mind - just as much as Nero's. Vergil sighed as he sheathed the Yamato after defeating his son once more, three days later. He headed back into the house and went to sit near the window in the guest room, unwilling to spend time around the three boys he could hear running around, and unwilling to have even _more_ words running in circles in his head if Nero decided to hit where it hurt again. He had already opened up too much for his liking, both as V and as himself, when he had told his son about the past. Doing so again was a... not a _scary_ perspective, but an unpleasant one. What else would Nero want to change about him?

However, there was something the girl had said that was less uncomfortable to consider. Other interests. Could do more than fighting. Not for Nero, not because of his words, not because he couldn't forget them, but for himself, maybe.

Cooking. Creating something, rather than destroying it. He had felt a weird satisfaction when he had cut the vegetables into cubes. _Creating_. His father hadn't just killed and fought, he had also made weapons, one of which Vergil was holding right now. He didn't have that kind of skills - and he supposed Dante didn't either, or he wouldn't need to collect all those weapons - but maybe he could make something tasty and nutritious out of ingredients that weren't all that interesting on their own. He was already good at cutting - obviously. He had learned a few other things when he had helped the girl. It was a good start.

Vergil reluctantly came to the conclusion that the girl was right. There was more to him than fighting. He could educate himself in other forms of art. He didn't want to do this just to prove Nero wrong, but he could definitely do it for himself, for the satisfaction of... of being a better person, maybe. Better not throw away the humanity he had regained through this whole ordeal, and the first step to cultivating what was left of it was to do something the demon inside wouldn't even consider doing.

In any case, the first step would be to get more information. Cooking techniques and simple recipes would be his priority, and books should be able to teach him everything he needed to know to start. He had already spotted a few in the living room, scattered amongst plenty of other books, while he had been seeking reading material for the early hours of the morning, when he was awake before everyone else. He would start with these.

Four days later, he had absorbed the contents of all fourteen cooking books he had found in the house. Two were entirely about techniques and other various tips and tricks, while the rest were recipe books. Vergil was ready for the next step, the one that might hit his pride a bit.

Sneaking into the kitchen was easy. The kids were outside, Nero was gone on a mission with his work partner. Kyrie was preparing dinner, and Vergil quietly went towards the pile of vegetables just waiting to be washed and cut.

"Tell me what size we need," he said, making Kyrie turn.

This could go either really well or really bad. He hoped those vegetables were really there to be cut.

"Ah, Vergil! Perfect timing. I'm going to need those finely chopped, to the point where the boys won't be able to be picky about them."

He was secretly very glad that the girl wasn't as snarky as the majority of the Sparda family, a.k.a. his brother and his son. Vergil didn't need anyone mocking his efforts. He was _trying_.

"Very well."

Just a little while later, the vegetables were reduced to pieces so small that they'd mix together when cooked, which was apparently Kyrie's goal. Vergil had started with his previous method before he had switched to one he had read about, reluctantly using a cutting board like a normal person. This step required him to practice, and the best way to do so without wasting food was to help out.

It took three weeks after that before Vergil felt confident enough in his newfound skills to prepare a full meal by himself. He did it all on his own, Kyrie only staying nearby to remind him of things here and there. She had guessed - correctly - that he was a perfectionist, to the point where he might be considering starting over if it didn't go just the way he wanted, so she guided him a bit so he wouldn't have to do that.

The dish turned out just fine and everyone loved it, but Vergil refused to take credit for it, warning Kyrie in advance to not tell anyone that he had made it. If Nero's loud work partner - Nico, was it? - knew that this was his idea, she might speculate that he had done this to poison them and he didn't feel like sparking an argument over some food. Nero getting a second serving was enough of a reward.

After that, Vergil helped Kyrie make the food for just about every meal. He only stayed away from the kitchen when someone else would already be helping in there. For some reason, this newfound passion wasn't something he wanted others to know about. And eventually, Kyrie asked him about it while he was removing the bones from a piece of chicken breast they had bought for dinner.

"Vergil, may I ask you something?"

He hummed as an answer. She could, but that didn't mean he would give her a satisfying response.

"Why do you not want others to see you in here, helping out?"

The half-demon sighed. It was pretty hard to answer since his reasons were unclear, even for himself. And since lying to the girl had already proven to be ineffective before, well...

"I'm unsure," he ended up saying.  
"Nero would probably like to know more about you. It's a little sad that he doesn't know much about his own father."  
"He doesn't really _try_ learning, either. Half of the things he tells me are insults, and the rest is a bunch of complaints when I critique his fighting style."

Kyrie giggled at that. She had learned quite a bit about Vergil ever since he had started helping her out, like his love for theater. She already knew that he liked literature and classical music before that, but this was new. She also knew that the half-demon had a... different way of expressing himself compared to most people. Whether that was because of his traumatic past or because he was simply like that, she didn't know, but she could see kindness behind the cold facade. Vergil _wanted_ to learn more about his son, _wanted_ Nero to be proud to have him as a father, _wanted_ to be worth something to others. But it wasn't something he knew how to do. She could guess his thoughts, could see that he often considered disappearing again because he wasn't sure that Nero or Dante even wanted him around.

And she could also see that Vergil was just trying to train Nero, even when he was coldly telling him every flaw in his fighting technique without any kind of pity or compassion. The older man just wanted to know he had passed down _something_ to his son, and the only thing he was confident enough about to pass down was fighting.

"He can be quite stubborn," she admitted. "I wonder where he got that from."  
"Do not mock me, child," Vergil warned her, his voice cold as ice, arctic blue eyes shifting towards her.  
"I'm not mocking you. I'm just pointing out that you two are a lot more similar than any of you will admit."  
"Would you care to elaborate?"

Vergil was trying to sound upset, but Kyrie could tell that he was genuinely interested and curious. She stirred the soup she was working on for a minute, gathering her thoughts and, despite his - obvious - impatience, Vergil let her think without pressing her.

"I think that the first trait that people are likely to notice is that you both have a pretty short temper. You tend to express it much less than he does, and less... explosively, but you both get annoyed pretty quickly, especially when Dante is around. Then, there's how stubborn you are, which is pretty obvious too. People also don't tend to appreciate you at first, until they get to what's hidden inside. And another obvious one is that you both like fighting."

She noticed Vergil quirking an eyebrow. Those were all pretty evident similarities. She smiled and looked at the half-demon directly, not deterred by his icy gaze.

"And those are good, easy similarities. However, digging deeper, I think that there's more that people don't tend to notice. For example, for you both, power is all about protection."

Vergil definitely frowned at that, and Kyrie tried to explain herself better:

"Nero only accepted his demonic arm when he used it to protect me. You, on the other hand, rejected your humanity because of the attack that killed your mother, and you wanted to get stronger to protect what's precious to you, in order to not lose everything again. Tell me, am I wrong to think so?"

The half-demon inhaled a sharp breath, but slowly shook his head. His hands had stopped moving, so he consciously made them continue working as he stared at the chicken, thoughtful. He unclenched his teeth, noticing how tight his jaw had been, and slowly relaxed his entire body.

"The attack," he finally managed to say, "who told you about it?"  
"Nero said that V mentioned it to him. When I asked Dante about it, he told me more. He said that you were not as power-hungry as a child, and only became so after the attack."

And she had linked everything else by herself. That was a truly impressive and scary ability. All the power in the world was useless against someone with the compassion to read one's heart and point out their weaknesses so easily. Especially weaknesses that the target themselves were unaware of.

Power... for protection? Really, Vergil had never actually stopped to think about it. He knew he wanted power. He still did, although that feeling was less present with how strong he currently was. He hadn't really taken the time to wonder _why_ he wanted it so much. But, looking back, his goal had always been to defeat Dante. Not kill him. Just defeat him. He had never said _anything_ about killing Dante. He had just... wanted him to stand down. Wanted him to admit that Vergil was stronger.

He had _told_ Dante that, without strength, one couldn't protect anything. He had refused Dante's help before falling to the Underworld so that his brother, his only remaining family, could get out. Even if his demonic self didn't really like Dante, beast against beast, feeling constantly threatened, Dante was still his family, his brother, his everything, the one he was born with, the only one who was still left. They had a bond, and he had convinced himself that it wasn't there, that his mother had left him behind in favor of saving Dante, that everything - whatever "everything" meant - was Dante's fault.

He had blinded himself, and this _girl_ was the one who had seen his reasons. Vergil felt... vulnerable. How had Kyrie seen so much, so easily, when _he_ hadn't even figured _himself_ out?

"I didn't mean to upset you," Kyrie said softly. "But, as I said before, I know you're more than what you let us see. Feel free to correct any of what I said if I'm wrong."

But Vergil just shook his head wordlessly, and continued preparing the food.

***

He spent the next few days processing Kyrie's analysis. Part of him refused it, insisted that he fought Dante for other reasons, that he would kill him, given the chance. That part was probably the demonic blood in his veins, feeling like anyone as strong as he was had to go down, even if it meant dying in the process. But the other part, which sounded suspiciously like a frail man with a talkative bird by his side, was rolling imaginary eyes at him and sighing, like it couldn't _believe_ that it had taken another person to make him see the truth.

Whatever the deep truth was, Vergil chose not to let it disturb his activities. He was heading to the kitchen to help Kyrie out when he suddenly stopped, not close enough to the doorway to be seen or heard. There were voices in the kitchen. One was Kyrie's, the other was Nero's. Vergil made sure to stay very quiet. He was about to leave when the deep silence of the corridor allowed the words to get to him.

"... so pretty today, Kyrie."  
"Nero, not _here_ ," the young woman laughed, and Vergil closed his eyes, reminded of a time long since gone, when he would give Anna simple compliments that would make her smile.  
"Hey, I'm not doing anything wrong. Your shoulders are just _really_ stiff. Are you sure you're good?"  
"Of course I'm all right. Come on, let me finish up."  
"Do you need any help?"  
"I'm okay. You can go and play with the boys? They love it when you're home early."  
"Okay. Call me if you need anything. Love ya."

Vergil teleported away before he would be heard or seen, feeling more than ever like he was a stranger, an intruder, not supposed to be there, not supposed to exist near them. He didn't belong, he was in the way, and even if it wasn't true, he couldn't change his own mind about it.

That night, he packed the few belongings he had. It wasn't much, really: the Yamato, some clothes, and the little jar of hair product that Kyrie had given him after his arrival so that he could avoid looking like Dante. After he was done making sure he had everything, he went to bed. He'd leave the day after, and tell the others then.

The next morning, Vergil got entirely prepared to leave before he even left his room for breakfast. He'd go join Dante at his agency, and hopefully a month and a half spent away from him would be enough for them to not Devil Trigger just from being in the same room.

His preparations done, he went to find Kyrie, since there were more chances she'd be around. He ended up finding both her and Nero at the same time, outside, playing with the kids. The temptation to leave without saying anything was there, so _real_ , but he fought it, thinking of the thin, fragile bond he had managed to create with Nero through fighting and a bit of talking. It wouldn't survive a disappearance on his part. So, instead of just making a portal while nobody was looking, Vergil stepped outside.

The kids' happy laughter stopped rather abruptly when they saw him. Nero had already turned to face him, a frown on his face as Vergil stopped a few meters away from him. They just stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, blue into blue, until Kyrie spoke and broke the staring contest.

"Good morning, Vergil. It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

She wasn't dumb, she knew something was happening. Her question wasn't innocent, and more aimed towards stopping a fight before it could happen. The two Sparda descendants looked away, and Vergil was the one who spoke next.

"Indeed. I came to inform you that I'll be leaving today. Right now, in fact."

Nero's eyes snapped back towards Vergil immediately, growling as spectral arms appeared, claws out.

" _Right now_?!" he shouted as Kyrie brought the kids inside, feeling that the fight would happen regardless of what she said or did. "You're running away _again_!"

Sometimes, Vergil envied his son for being able to express himself so freely. Emotions running wild, letting them show on his face, instead of always keeping up a stoic expression like Vergil or a carefree attitude like Dante. In that aspect, Nero was so different from him, and so much more similar to Anna, who had never hidden her emotions.

"Believe what you want, Nero," he chose to say, carefully keeping a calm and cool voice.  
"Where you gonna go, uh? Gonna disappear like a coward? Gonna go back to Hell so that-"  
"I will be staying with Dante. Whether _you_ consider this 'disappearing' or not matters not. But this brother of mine is no doubt head-deep in debt _again_ and in need of a good beating for spending _my_ money so recklessly."

Nero took a minute to understand. Vergil's money? But he had- oh. V's money. For the contract on Urizen. On himself, basically. The money Vergil had given Dante to beat himself up. Yeah, not weird at all. The Devil Hunter did calm down a little at that, but his eyes flared with warning.

"Don't you _dare_ try to kill Dante again."

_It was never about killing him._

"I won't."  
"Or else I'll have to show up all dramatic-like again and beat up _both_ of you this time."  
"You have yet to defeat _me_ again, _son_."  
"Well I'm gonna get serious about it _this_ time, _father_."

They both noticed then that a fight was unavoidable. Standing down would be admitting defeat. Nero slowly walked towards the house, keeping his eyes on Vergil the entire time. The Red Queen was there, and his gun was already in its holster. He took the sword, and his eyes glowed with challenge. The tip of the Red Queen met the ground, and Nero revved the handle, breaking the silence.

"This time, I'll defeat you."

Fighting again. Vergil wasn't sure _why_ they were doing this exactly, but one thing was certain: it was the only way they had ever really bonded. This time felt different, however. There was more to it. Not just Nero wanting to defeat him, but there was something _else_ behind that desire. It took until Nero's blade met his before he understood, feeling the emotions behind every swing just like he had felt his son's anger before. Communication through fighting was apparently the only way for demons to really understand each other. This time, Vergil could feel two emotions, two thoughts.

 _Don't leave me again_.

With how often Nero called him a coward, this one was obvious. He was afraid that Vergil would disappear without any trace or any way to reach him. He finally had a family, even if it was a really dysfunctional one, and he didn't want to lose it. He had a father, and an uncle. Losing any of them was a scary thought. And he was right to think it might happen. Vergil had indeed considered leaving without telling anyone, more than once.

But it was the _other_ feeling that really got him, that staggered him and pushed him back when he barely blocked a particularly fierce attack.

 _I want you to be proud of me_.

Curious, but not unwelcome, and Vergil could see the reason behind it. Nero had defeated him once before, but only after Dante had already weakened him. And the entire fight, Nero had wanted to be acknowledged. Now, it wasn't just hurt pride that gave his attacks more strength. It was hope, and Vergil hissed when the Red Queen caught him and sent him flying. Its tip was under his chin half a second later as he lay on his back on the ground.

Maybe emotions did have their place in a fight, after all.

"I win, _father_ ," Nero growled challengingly.

But there was more in his eyes as he slowly moved his sword away. Vergil got up with a groan, sheathed the Yamato, and took a good breath, looking at Nero. Looking at _his son_.

"I'll be taking my leave."

Something flashed in Nero's eyes. Fear, hurt, despair maybe, but they all disappeared when Vergil spoke again, repeating words from months ago, when he had been about to dive into the Underworld.

"I won't lose, next time."

Not just in such a fight, sword in hand, but as a man, and as a father. It was Nero's emotions as a son that had allowed him to win the fight. The next time they saw each other, Vergil would find a way to somehow beat Nero at this. Probably with cooking, his new secret weapon. Surprising his son by being an actual decent father seemed like a pretty fine goal.

He wasn't sure Nero had really understood the deeper meaning behind his words. But he probably knew that this wasn't just about fighting, not anymore. Still, his grin was fierce and competitive as he put his sword on his back.

"Until next time, then."

Vergil huffed, but nodded. He drew out the Yamato, and slashed at the very fabric of time and space. Before stepping into the portal, he spotted Kyrie, who was watching from the house. He offered her a slight nod.

 _Thank you_.

She responded with a warm smile, and Vergil entered the portal. Time to go surprise his brother.

**Author's Note:**

> My personal take on DMC5 Vergil is what Kyrie pointed out in this story: Vergil lost everything when his mother was attacked and he was separated from Dante, and it traumatized him so much that he started seeking power, since he didn't know what _else_ he could do to protect what's dear to him. He never mentioned _killing_ Dante, only defeating him (V said "To defeat his twin brother", and Vergil himself said "Defeating you like this has no meaning"), and I think that he was unconsciously hoping that his brother would stop hunting demons and endangering himself if he tasted defeat. Dante did pretty much try to finish off Vergil, but I think that's because he thought his brother was still power-mad. They can't stand each other, sure, but I can't stand my own brother either, it's just a siblings thing, and those two have demon instincts rustling inside, most probably, so they feel it even more than us mere humans :p
> 
> Again, that's just my personal take, in case any of you wondered why I made him that way in here. Feel free to let me know your opinion in the comments, however! I'm always looking forward to discussions about my fave DMC person.


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